What Is Dead May Never Die
by Snowbeamer9
Summary: Rose Weasley and her cousins struggle with school, love, and friendship at Hogwarts, yet darker times are ahead. Harry Potter, now Head Auror at the Ministry, has gone missing for over a month, and the wizarding world strains their resources to find him. Rumors arise that a Dark wizard is on the rise again ... RWxSM; TLxVW; JSPxOC


_A/N: Forgot to mention, this is set 4 years after "19 Years Later", the last chapter of the HP books.  
_

* * *

**Chapter One: Cushions, Rocks, and Gravestones**

Rose Weasley had never meant to tell so many people so many lies.

It had started over a month ago, with the disappearance of her uncle. Harry Potter was not only one of the most influential wizards of the day – Head Auror at the Ministry – but he was also famous throughout the ages for having defeated the most powerful Dark Wizard in history. Rose had often read of Uncle Harry in school textbooks like _Hogwarts: A Renewed History_ and _Fall of the Dark Era._ It was strange that he was so well-known throughout the wizarding world, yet to Rose he was only Uncle Harry, who had taught her how to ride a broomstick and came to visit almost every other week.

His disappearance had been very ill-received, to say the least, by the Ministry. They had tried to keep it quiet, but it didn't go unnoticed by the public for very long. Rose, along with the rest of the Potter and Weasley family, had received worried letters from their parents and the Ministry, briefly explaining the situation and reassuring them that the best Aurors had been sent off to search for Uncle Harry.

When the _Witch Weekly_ reporters showed up, Rose was prepared. "No comment," she had told them briskly, before the angry Headmaster had ushered her and her siblings back to their Common Rooms.

Then the questions at school had started. Random people Rose had never spoken to before came up to console her or to pester her with questions. Even her friends had taken to slipping in an inquiry here and there about her uncle, which Rose had angrily warded off. She had used so many excuses – he's on vacation; he's on a break; he's tracking a Dark wizard; he's negotiating a peace treaty with the giants; he's learning Gobbledegook – but with each lie she grew more desperate and angrier with the world. Why couldn't they just leave her alone?

If it wasn't bad enough dodging all the questions, Rose, her siblings, and her cousins had been forced to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas. Her father and Aunt Ginny, both highly ranked within the Ministry of Magic, had left on top-secret missions, no doubt to find Uncle Harry. Even Rose's mother, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and Head of Gryffindor House, had taken a leave of absence to join the Ministry in their search.

If there was any solace to be found in the current situation, it was that Rose's cousins at Hogwarts – the Potters – had it worse than her. Lily walked around with her jaw set and ignoring everyone, and Albus withdrew into quiet reservation; James had taken to hexing anyone who annoyed him. It was mostly in their company that Rose spent her Christmas, and she found that misery did indeed love company, yet they were somehow stronger together.

Rose grimaced and flicked her wand. The cushion on the desk before her gave a feeble hop before falling to the floor. When her cousins and Hugo remained in Gryffindor Tower, Rose, being the only one in Ravenclaw, had taken to making some use of her spare time. With approaching O.W.L.s in a few months, she wanted to make sure she prepared enough for the practical exams. Rose could read a book once and regurgitate the information perfectly, but spells took a little more practice.

"_Accio,"_ she said irritably, flicking her wand. The pink cushion, now on the floor of the empty Transfiguration classroom, crawled towards her like a dying animal before stopping a few inches from where it had been. "Oh, c'mon … _Accio. Accio! Accio accio ACCIO_!"

"Spitting at it isn't going to make the spell work, y'know," came a familiar voice from the doorway. James sauntered into the classroom, hands in pockets, hair sticking up as though he had just woken up.

"If I spit at you, will you leave me alone?"

James grinned. "Ah, Rosie, you've never battled me at Spitball, have you? Albus and Hugo will testify that it would be unwise to challenge me."

"Oh, grow up, James," Rose said briskly, returning her attention to the cushion. _"Accio."_

The cushion, to its credit, flew several feet forward before colliding with the desk in front of Rose.

"Close," James said, and Rose couldn't tell whether he was being encouraging or sarcastic. "C'mon, Rosie, it's stopped snowing. We're all thinking of making a trip to Hogsmeade for some Christmas shopping."

"Not now, James."

"You can buy me a present." James screwed his face up and pretended to think. "This year, I think I'd like a box of pink cushions—AARGH!"

By no magical means, Rose hurled the pink cushion across the room at James. He dove to the side just in time; the cushion hurtled to the open doorway—and hit someone squarely in the face.

Rose froze. The face in the doorway was utterly familiar to her, from the neatly parted white-blonde hair that fell over a thin, pointed visage to the quiet gray eyes, which were presently narrowed in a scowl. Her stomach gave an automatic little twinge, something it had been doing for the past several months, though Rose still couldn't tell whether the little flips were good or bad.

Scorpius Malfoy's serious gray eyes focused on the pink cushion at his feet, and then traveled straight to Rose's face. His eyebrows rose slightly, but other than that, he made no movement.

James had straightened himself and was staring at the doorway, a less-than-benign grin spreading on his face. His brown eyes, Rose could see, were glinting with malice. "My bad, Malfoy," he said, the friendliness in his tone vanishing. "Did that hurt?"

"You tell me, Potter," Malfoy returned coolly. "I'm not the one playing with pink cushions in my spare time."

James whipped out his wand and took a step forward. "Oh, I'll bet it hurt, Malfoy, but not nearly as much as it will when I'm done with you."

"James," Rose said warningly, stepping forward. She could sense the danger beneath James's word-play; all the anger he had bottled up for the past month might be unleashed at any moment.

Malfoy regarded James without the slightest hint of fear. "And what is it you're planning to do? Swat me with more pink cushions?"

Faster than a flash, James raised his wand, but Rose was quicker. She stepped neatly between the two boys, her eyes narrowed. "James, that's enough. If you hex anyone again I'll actually report you."

A muscle twitched in James's neck. For a second she was actually afraid that he would hex her anyway—but he slowly lowered his wand, looking as though it was costing him every ounce of his self-constraint.

"Right," he said coolly, "I keep forgetting you're a Prefect now, eh, Rosie?" He patted her shoulder in a brotherly way as he passed her. "Next time," she heard him snarl at Malfoy, "you won't be so lucky."

Rose let out a breath, hardly daring to believe James had actually listened to her. She hated having to reprimand him for his recent rash actions. The Potters were going through a lot lately, and James seemed to be having the roughest time, especially with his temper and adeptness at spells. Rose understood his pent-up frustration at being stuck here, at Hogwarts, learning spells below his current capability and not being able to help out in the search for his father.

Rose turned, and found herself face-to-face with Malfoy. He was looking at her with those cool gray eyes, though there was something slightly more diffident about the way he held the pink cushion. "Think you dropped this," he said, offering it to her.

Rose took it from him without a word and set it on the same desk at the very front of the classroom before returning to her previous seat. She raised her wand, determined to ignore Malfoy. Her stomach, though, felt slightly funny, and she was suddenly very self-conscious about how her curly red hair fell in front of her face when she slouched. She straightened slightly, pushed the hair back, and flicked her wand.

"_Accio."_

In the corner furthest from her, Malfoy had taken out his spellbooks from his shoulder-slung bag and was sitting very still. Rose felt her cheeks flush as her cushion tumbled halfway through the classroom, changed its mind, and flopped lifelessly onto the floor.

"You're doing it wrong," she heard Malfoy say, and turned to see him pulling out his own wand. "It's more of a tick than a downward flick. And try to concentrate your mind on it, not just look at it."

_Concentrate_, Rose thought, frowning. She was still feeling slightly hostile towards Malfoy for having forced her—through no fault of his, she had to admit—to tell off James. "If my spells aren't good enough for you, I'll switch classrooms," she snapped.

"No, I—I didn't mean it that way."

He almost sounded sincere. Rose cringed at her own antagonism. "Yeah," she said, and after an uncertain pause, "How, did you say?"

He demonstrated with his own wand, and Rose imitated his movement several times. "Right, I think I've got the hang of this." She cleared her throat, closed her eyes, and forced the image of the pink cushion into her mind. _"Accio!"_

There was a thud and a muffled grunt, followed by a crash. Rose's eyes flew open and she saw, a few rows from her, Malfoy lying on the ground, upturned chair and pink cushion beside him. To her own horror, she found her lips stretching in a smile; before she knew, it she was laughing.

Malfoy scrambled to his feet and hurriedly brushed down his expensive black robes, lined with the green of Slytherin House. His pale cheeks had become a shade of pink, and his blonde hair swept over his eyes in a way that was more charming than his usual split. When he saw that she was trying to stifle her giggles, he lowered his eyes and a corner of his own lips lifted for a second. "Aiming _is_ necessary," he said.

"I think my cushion got where it needed to go."

"Ah. Now I know better than to help you with your spells."

Rose put her hand on her hip. "Or maybe I'm particularly good at lethal Summoning Charms. You should watch out, Malfoy."

His gray eyes lingered on her for a moment more, a trace of amusement passing through his features. "We'll see, Weasley," Scorpius Malfoy replied, and bent his head to his book.

Rose returned to her Summoning Charms, unable to keep a small smile from her face.

* * *

His dormitory was completely empty when James returned, save for one person. Emma Vance glanced up at him when he entered the door, her smile slipping when he slammed the door shut behind him.

"What's up?"

"Nothing," James replied, shortly flinging himself onto his bed next to her. She sat cross-legged on his four-poster, neat whereas everything else was chaotic. Her long auburn hair fell past her face as she bent over the open book in her lap.

"You remember that stone I found when I went with Hagrid into the Forest?" she said, and he knew it wasn't so much a question as an introduction to what she was about to say. "The really pretty one that was all smooth and diamond-shaped? Well, I've been thinking lately …"

James watched her lips move, noting for the hundredth time how her long lashes cast shadows on her high cheekbones, and how her blue, doe-shaped eyes reminded him of a pool of calm water. She always knew, without trying, what to say and do around him; what other girls might question, Emma simply accepted; whereas other girls might cry at his temper, Emma simply gazed at him with those wide blue eyes and went calmly back to her business.

"… James?" She leaned over him now, her face perfectly upside down to his, locks of her auburn hair sweeping over his cheeks. "Have you been listening to a word I was saying?"

"No," he admitted.

She gave a small sigh, not in an exasperated way, and tapped a finger on distractedly his chin. "I've been getting this feeling when I'm around the stone … a little like loneliness, I suppose. And with Hagrid and Olympe on vacation, I … _James?_" She stopped at the look on his face.

James reached out and closed his hand around her wrist, pulling her close. "Shut up and kiss me," he said.

* * *

"This is it, isn't it?"

The houses around them were dark and quiet in the twilight, the winding cobbled paths blanketed by a thick layer of snow. Flakes tumbled from the sky everywhere around, muffling the sound of strangers and footsteps for miles around. Godric's Hollow was as peaceful as it ever was, the week before Christmas.

Two people stood alone before the graveyard: a man with strange blue hair and a woman with glistening silver locks. They were both clad in thick coats of different calibers – the man's had a worn and ragged look while the woman's gave off a sleek, new shine – and leather boots.

Teddy Lupin raised his wand, but the girl by his side beat him to it. _"Homenum Revelio,"_ Victoire Weasley whispered.

The graveyard remained dark.

"Good one," Teddy said, before tapping his wand. A bright beam of light radiated from the tip of his wand.

Victoire tossed her hair over her shoulders in a way that was reminiscent of her mother. "You can never be too careful, Teddy. _Lumos._"

"Yeah, but nobody was there anyway."

He felt her scowl as they turned away from each other to prowl amongst the graves. The ground and all the tombstones were cocooned in snowy casts, and the dead rested quietly in beneath the blanket of white. Occasionally, Teddy would come across a tombstone adorned with a bundle of flowers or a wreath of holly, but it seemed most of the dead here had been long forgotten by the mortal world.

"Hey, Victoire," he called. "If I die, you'll come visit my grave, right?"

She emerged from behind a tombstone to his left, looking furious. "Zat's not funny!" Her slight French accent had a way of slipping out when she was angry. "And keep your voice down, you thick idiot, are you trying to give us away?"

"_Victoire—"_

"_What did I just say?"_

"No, look." Teddy's voice had lost all playfulness; he stood before a tombstone that gleamed a little more brightly than the others in the fading light. They hadn't spotted it right away because it was made of pure white marble that closely resembled the snow that covered all the other graves. This one had been swept clean. But what made Teddy stare at it were the two large gashes that had been made across the tombstone, crossing in the center to form a large X. He swept his wandtip across the surface, feeling coldness spread inside him as he read the names.

"Lily and James Potter," Victoire whispered aloud, her voice and face reflecting the horror Teddy felt within. "Who …?"

"I dunno." Teddy raised his wand. _"Reparo."_

They took turns with different incantations that grew increasingly advanced, yet nothing would fix the large mark that sullied the grave of Lily and James Potter. The large X seemed to stare back at them, growing more powerful and more ominous with each passing spell.

Victoire lowered her wand at last. "Useless," she declared. "This is advanced dark magic."

"I have the feeling this is where Harry disappeared. No, listen," he added, catching Victoire's look, "whoever profaned this grave must've done it to goad Harry. They must've … somehow … led him here, and gotten him the moment he was distracted by the tombstone."

Victoire's blue eyes glittered against the glow of their wands. "We're close, then, Teddy."

Something in her face made him reach for her hand and clasp it tightly in his, their fingers knitting together. "It's late. Let's find an inn for tonight, mull over these things."

She nodded. "Wait," she said, tugging on his hand as he was about to Disapparate.

Her Obliteration Charm swept through the graveyard, erasing all their footprints until the snow was as good as new, and it seemed like nothing had ever disturbed the peace of Godric Hollow's snow-covered graveyard.

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A review would be nice. This is my first serious fic. Lemme know what you think. A lot more excitement and whatever you're looking for - adventure, comedy, romance, drama - in store.


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